


Baker St. Bakery

by Wreck



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shop, Challenge Response, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-25 20:00:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wreck/pseuds/Wreck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The drastic change in the weather since yesterday may have had a detrimental effect on the samples.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baker St. Bakery

**Author's Note:**

> prompt from Riddlemesphinx:  
> setting: Coffee Shop AU  
> prompt: "sweep"  
> time limit: 10 mins
> 
> un-beta'd. let me know if anything is horribly wrong.

“You know, this would go a lot quicker if you were to help once in a while!” 

The voice carries from the front of the now empty shop, past the saloon doors, and into the back where it is resolutely ignored by a man hunched over a table, fingers steepled against his mouth, a look of deep concentration on his face. 

There’s a clattering of noise like chairs falling over, a loud curse, and slap of a wet rag hitting a hard surface, and still the man takes no notice. 

“Are you even still here? A little help is all I...” John Watson stops short as he pushes through the doors. He looks at the man in front of him and lets out an exasperated laugh. “Are you still worried?”

“Of course I’m worried, John,” the man says without opening his eyes, though he does squeeze his fingers on the bridge of his nose before dropping his hands. “The drastic change in the weather since yesterday may have had a detrimental effect on the samples.”

“Sherlock,” John says in a soothing voice. “I’m sure the macarons are going to be perfect, just like always.”

“But John! This is a subtle art,” Sherlock insists, pointing angrily at a pastry bag filled with the offending macaron icing. “You can’t just...” 

“I know,” John says, cutting him off with a kiss. 

And with that, the part owner and, at the moment, cleaning crew of Baker St. Bakery pulls his pouting pastry chef of a husband out of his chair and thrusts a broom into his hands. 

“And what am I supposed to do with this?” Sherlock asks, as if he’s never seen one outside of a book.

“Sweep.”

Sherlock gives the table of pastries one more filthy look, then takes John’s hand and pulls the boom behind him as they head back to the front of the shop.


End file.
